


Chair

by OzQueen



Series: CP 100 situations [5]
Category: Captain Planet and the Planeteers
Genre: 100 situations, Bondage, F/M, Kissing, One Shot, Sexual Tension, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-15
Updated: 2010-12-15
Packaged: 2017-10-13 16:36:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/139388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OzQueen/pseuds/OzQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wheeler finds himself in trouble after failing to listen to Linka, and she decides to teach him a lesson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chair

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt and Title: Chair
> 
> Rating: M
> 
> Notes: So, 'Mercy' is one of my most popular fics. I've written this in the same style – just with Wheeler and Linka's positions reversed. The stories aren't really related in any way other than having similar subject matter.

  


  


xXx

Wheeler had stopped struggling long hours ago. It had done him no good – the ropes hadn't loosened in the least and all he'd managed to do was rub his skin raw. His fingers tingled with uncomfortable numbness and he had taken to flexing them every few minutes.

The room was small and quiet, and as far as he knew, he had been locked in the dark. It barely mattered anyway – black tape covered his eyes, sealing out all light. Another strip over his mouth made an attempt to keep him quiet. He'd used the back of his throat to yell himself hoarse, until he realised the other Planeteers weren't coming.

He hoped they were okay.

 _Of course they're okay. Linka bossed them all into following her plan and of course she got lucky and it worked..._

His thoughts trailed off. Luck had nothing to do with it, and he knew it. He'd waved away her concerns of rushing in with no solid plan in mind. He'd bragged about bringing Blight's operation down from the inside before the other Planeteers had even coordinated their plan of attack.

Typically, it had backfired, and now he was stuck, waiting. Thinking about what Linka would say when he had to admit she had been right and he had been wrong; again.

He shifted slightly. Blight would have to come back at some point, though he had no foolish notions of it being anytime soon. He was probably over-estimating how long he'd been sitting there, anyway.

Being so helpless and useless infuriated him. He wondered if the others had managed to make progress against Blight, or if they had fallen victim to similar situations, despite their careful planning.

He was glowering against the black tape across his eyes, thinking this over, when he heard the lock on the door slide open. He wriggled against the rope keeping him bound tightly to the chair, alert and aware of the door slowly opening and then closing again.

He listened carefully. He had heard no footsteps, but there was soft breathing beside him, and he could sense the warmth and heat of someone very close, looking at him; inspecting him. He could feel sweat on his skin and he shifted nervously, the chair creaking under his weight and the rope pulling at the skin around his wrists. He could hear his own breath escaping from his flared nostrils, and the air around him seemed hot and thick and smoky, like it could do damage to him if he breathed too much of it in.

Cool fingertips brushed against his forehead and he jumped. The chair creaked again and he heard his breath hitch loudly. He cursed himself for being so openly nervous in front of Blight.

Though he knew, deep down, that it wasn't Blight.

The smell in the air around him was light and sweet and he knew it like a part of himself. Something floral and cool like roses in winter – something contradictory and beautiful, like the woman who wore it against the pulse on her throat.

Linka.

"Stuck, Yankee?" she whispered.

He nodded, feeling rather sheepish, though his heart was thudding loudly.

He felt her fingertips move upwards over his skin until her fingers slid slowly into his hair, pushing it back. He let his head move back with the gentle force of her hand, exposing his throat to her. He wished he could see, but at the same time he was glad he couldn't, because everything about this was too intimate to be witnessed. She was touching him because he couldn't see her do it, and the thought excited him and rose within him like heat and air; like Wheeler and Linka, like it always, always did.

"Has it given you time to cool off?" she asked, sounding slightly amused. "Did I not tell you that running in with no plan would land you in hot water?"

He drew in a shaky breath as he felt the lightest touch against his throat, against his Adam's apple, and he didn't know if it happened to be her lips or the fingertips of her other hand. His muscles were tensed against the rope binding him to the chair and for a moment he thought he'd be able to burst from them due to sheer will alone.

She kept her fingers twined in his hair and trailed her other hand along his jaw. He forced himself to keep still, though the feather-touch tickled him and he wanted her to do something harder, firmer, rough and forceful.

"Maybe I should leave you here," she murmured. "Leave you here to think about how right I was, hm? And how wrong you were..."

He could hear the smile in her voice as the backs of her fingers slid down against his pulse, cold against his hot skin. He could feel the helpless, rapid flutter of his heart beating against his throat, and it only grew more so as she stepped quietly behind him and moved her hands over his shoulders.

"I thought you knew, by now, not to rush in?" she breathed.

He nodded dumbly, the roar of his own blood rushing in his ears. Her breath against his skin was conjuring up all sorts of images and by the time he told himself to focus once more on how uncomfortable he was, it was too late. He'd seen, in his mind's eye, her naked body curled around him as she breathed and gasped pleasure into his ear.

 _Focus, damn it,_ he thought desperately. _Think about how the psycho doctor will pin you down and dissect you like a giant worm if you don't stop thinking about Linka being all naked..._

She was still behind him. He could practically _feel_ the smug look on her face as she stood behind him, her fingers tracing across his aching shoulders.

For a moment he thought she was going to untie him, but then the lightest of kisses brushed against the back of his neck, and he knew she wasn't ready to face him being free yet. There was a careful, wafer-thin shield held against everything, so long as he remained in the chair, unable to see her or speak to her or move his hands over her.

If he didn't see it, it didn't really happen.

His fingers twitched desperately. _She's gonna kiss my neck and breathe all over me like this and I can't do anything about it?_ He thought about screaming to Ma-Ti for help. Surely this sort of torture was inhumane and against Planeteer protocol.

She wound her arms around him from behind and sighed, her face buried in his neck. "How many times do you have to find yourself in a situation like this before you start to listen to me, Yankee?" she mumbled against his skin.

 _I'll never not listen to you again,_ his mind babbled. _Untie me and I'll do whatever the hell you want, so long as this isn't forgotten. So long as you keep doing that little kissy breathy sucky thing with your mouth..._

The press of her lips against the side of his neck caused his breath to catch again. He tilted his head sideways. His breathing was ragged and the sweat on his skin now had nothing to do with the efforts of getting out of the chair.

"You will listen to me next time, hm?" she asked softly, her lips brushing his ear.

He nodded vigorously.

"You know if you keep running in like this without thinking, you will get us all into trouble," she continued, moving her hand slowly from his shoulder and down his chest, her flat palm bumping slowly over each coil of rope holding tight against him.

He could hear his own breath, ragged and deep. He was too confused and too desperate to be embarrassed. The chair creaked under him again as he strained against the ropes holding him tightly. Linka ran her hand through his hair again and he let out a soft huff of air, pleadingly.

 _Untie me._

"You know how I found you, _svetlyachok_?"

He could feel her smiling now. _Oh, Linka, I dunno what's gotten into you, but I love it and I hate it at the same time. Let me go so I can watch it and touch it; whatever the hell this thing is._

"I was _careful,_ " she said, her voice stern and mocking at the same time. "Planning, Yankee. It is always important. None of this..." She took a breath and blew it against his skin again. "None of this impulse."

He tipped his head back and felt it nudge against her shoulder as she remained bent over him, her hands sliding over the ropes surrounding his chest and holding him to the chair.

He could feel himself getting hard, and he didn't care.

Her mouth pressed against his pulse again, and he swallowed carefully, feeling the movement of his own body press gently against hers.

Then she was gone – she stepped back and left him alone and isolated. He let a low grumble of frustration and desperation burn in the back of his throat and he gave a small struggle, mainly for show.

 _Time to untie me, now. I'll listen to your little lecture later. There's obviously somethin' else we need to discuss first, because if you think we're walkin' out of this room without –_

Her fingers caught on the tape across his mouth and ripped it quickly away.

He gasped. "Ow, fuck!"

She gave a soft laugh and he felt her lips press against his tingling skin where the tape had been just seconds earlier. "Sorry," she whispered. She kissed either side of his mouth. "Better?"

"No," he muttered, leaning forward. He managed to find her mouth, but she pulled out of his reach before he could do anything but offer a chaste kiss against her lips.

"Linka..." His mouth was dry. He swallowed and tried to start again, but all of a sudden she was close again. Close, close, close.

The chair creaked and groaned as it dealt with the new weight of Linka's body on Wheeler's lap.

"Why do you never listen to me when I ask you not to rush in?" she asked, her voice close to his ear.

He swallowed and opened his mouth to answer, but she pressed on.

"And _why_ do I worry and fret and panic whenever you go missing?" Her voice was soft and husky and he felt her fingers in his hair again, tipping his head back. She kissed his exposed throat. "Sometimes I think you do it just to worry me. Just so you can prove that you really mean something to me."

"Linka, you're driving me crazy here," he panted. "If you untie me I swear I'll listen to you next time, and the time after that, and the time after that." His chest rose and fell rapidly, straining against the ropes.

She sighed and guided his head forwards again, resting her forehead against his. "I cannot understand the feelings I have for you, sometimes," she whispered. "We are not a good match, Wheeler, but sometimes I can feel you so deeply it hurts me to breathe. Sometimes I think my heart would break without you." She pressed her lips softly against his. "Sometimes I curse you and I wish something terrible would happen to you. And then something like this happens. Someone gets their hands on you and you go missing and I worry so much..." She kissed him again, her fingers twined into his hair, and he opened his mouth slightly to touch his tongue against hers.

His heart was racing and sweat gleamed on his skin. He could feel it burning in the welts on his wrists and he could feel it damp under his arms. Sweat, heat, want. His hands itched to touch her.

"Please, please, please untie me," he whispered. His own voice sounded husky and weak to his ears. He could feel her thighs sliding against his waist and he knew there was no hiding the very significant effect she was having upon him.

"What will you do if I untie you?" she asked softly, pressing her lips against his jaw and the corners of his mouth.

"My hands," he breathed, leaning forward and trailing his mouth along the soft skin of her cheek and down her neck. "Let my hands go so I can use them..."

She gave a throaty chuckle and the noise ran right through his blood and added to the heat that was pressing up inside his jeans. As if knowing what had happened, Linka shrugged her hips closer to his, and the chair creaked and his breath hitched in his throat. He buried his face against her shoulder.

"For God's sake," he gasped, "this is cruel."

"So is getting yourself into trouble and worrying me," she murmured. She sucked lightly on his lower lip.

"Sorry," he panted.

She ran her hands through his hair and cupped his jaw. "Do you worry about me, when I get into trouble?"

"It makes me feel sick," he admitted.

She pressed against him and kissed him deeply, holding him to her firmly. She rolled her hips slightly and he groaned and pulled away from her quickly.

"You gotta stop that," he breathed. "I can't..."

She laughed and kissed him softly. "I think you have learned your lesson, Yankee. Rushing in does not seem like such a good idea now, does it?"

"Depends on the context," he breathed, leaning forward again and crashing his mouth against hers roughly. "This is a good rush."

She stroked her thumbs over his cheeks before she leaned away again. "Do you think you can get yourself under control?"

He gave a rueful grin. "There are certain ways to deal with it..."

"Hmph." She picked slowly at the tape still across his eyes and eased it away. He blinked rapidly and looked up at her, a lazy grin spreading across his face as he looked up at her. She was just inches away.

"Hi," he breathed.

She smiled down at him in amusement. "Hello."

He could still feel sweat on his skin, and his heart throbbed, dangerously rapid and heavy. "Is this gonna be a regular thing, if I wander off on my own and do something reckless?"

She gave him a crooked smile. "You want it to be regular? I got the impression you were rather desperate for me to stop." She squirmed closer, rocking her hips against him.

He gave a choke and buried his face in her neck, biting down hard on his lip and squeezing his eyes closed, fighting to keep his body under control. "You're evil," he breathed. "I suspected it, but it's been proven. Pure evil."

"I have not untied you, yet," Linka answered, winding her arms around his shoulders. "You should be nice to me."

"Untie me and I'll treat you _real_ nice," he said, grinning against her neck.

" _Bozhe moy,_ " she muttered.

He nuzzled the side of her neck. "Come on, Linka. Untie me..."

She stroked her hand through his hair carefully before she leaned forward, her body pressing tightly against his as she reached around him to pick at the knots holding him to the chair.

"No more running off and worrying me, Yankee," she warned, tugging the ropes loose.

He immediately wrapped his arms around her and twined his fingers into her hair, holding her to him for a firm kiss. "No more of that," he promised huskily, standing and kicking the chair away. It clattered to the floor.

Wheeler backed Linka against the wall and pressed his body against hers, one hand trapped in her hair and the other sliding against her waist. "Lots more of this."

xXx

  



End file.
